


Forêt Noire

by fireandhoney



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cake, Idiots in Love, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock and normal life, Sherlock figuring out how to be human, Sherlock figuring out things, Social Conventions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28177821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireandhoney/pseuds/fireandhoney
Summary: Sherlock figures out "cake theory".
Relationships: Johnlock, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Forêt Noire

He saw it for the first time on a crappy show John was watching on the telly.

He wasn't really paying attention, he'd been busy cataloging data about his most recent experiment (decomposition rate of various types of fabrics in wet mud).  
It was one of those comedies that people watch to forget about their own boring existence and live vicariously through these unrealistic cliché characters.  
One of them had, uh, succeeded or achieved something and their friend or partner (it didn't seem like the relationship was clearly defined) had decided to get them a cake to celebrate the event.  
The cake had some funny remark and decorative frosting and the other characters had seemed amused and touched by the gesture.  
He'd frowned, questioning the plausibility of that outcome, and shelved the unverified knowledge for later.

It came up again about a week later.  
Lestrade was talking about attending a friend's sobriety party and he'd been asking John's opinion on a pastry when Sherlock heard "a cake is always an easy win".  
So, the theory of the cake was proved right: John knew of social contracts and conventions and always knew what was and wasn't appropriate.  
If John deemed it a good choice, then it most definitely was.

Sherlock pondered over how to best use this newfound information for days.  
What could warrant the use of such celebration? Did it have to be a big event, or could it be simple?   
Finally after a fortnight, the opportunity arose.  
John, who'd started working at a surgery about a month ago (37 days to be exact) in replacement of a pregnant employee, was offered a permanent position.  
He mentioned it subtly in passing, either because he assumed Sherlock wouldn't care or because he didn't want to gloat (probably both).  
Sherlock noticed how his shoulders squared more than usual and the glint in his eyes was one of pride.  
Immediately, Sherlock texted a chef who owed him a favour and had a cake prepared.  
A couple of hours later, he was returning to Baker Street, his box carefully wrapped in a pretty ribbon.  
John would be coming home from work any minute now, and Sherlock was getting anxious.  
What if he'd misunderstood? What if cake wasn't really acceptable, what if there was some subtlety to cake theory he hadn't seized in the witnessed interactions?   
Would John even be happy, or would he find him ridiculous? Was it worth the risk of disappointing John ag--   
Sherlock's thoughts were interrupted as he heard the oh so familiar footsteps making their way up the stairs.  
Quickly, he hid the box on the counter behind him and stood in front of it, nonchalantly leaning against the back of a chair.  
John walked in and took off his coat, looking around. When he finally noticed Sherlock, he frowned.  
"Hi?"  
"Hey, John!"  
The two looked at each other as an uncomfortable silence stretched between them.  
John frowned and worried.   
"Is everything alright? Are you okay?"  
"Oh, yes" Sherlock nodded, taking a step aside and grabbing the box.  
In a strange mixture of excitement and hesitation, he stepped forward, took a step back, then reached the table again and put the box down.  
He pushed it slightly towards John, who eyed the whole process suspiciously.  
"What is this?"  
"It's, uh, a gift. A thing. I mean, a thing gift for you."  
John appeared even more confused.  
"A gift? For me? You got me a gift?"  
Sherlock looked down, away, anywhere but at John's, playing with his fingers, then replacing his shirt.   
"I, yes, I did."   
He waited for something to happen, for John to move or talk, but as nothing did, he looked back up.  
There were few moments in his life Sherlock Holmes hadn't been able to read, moments when he'd been completely unable to process all the data he was receiving, unable to make any conclusions.  
This was one of them.  
"John?"  
John blinked, like coming back to reality. He nodded his head and made his way to the other side of the table.   
"Well, I should open it then, shouldn't I?"  
Sherlock joined his hands by his waist, moving his arms up so his fingertips pressed under his chin in his thinking pose.  
He observed John as he reached for the box and opened the top, revealing a small, elegantly decorated forêt noire cake, topped with cherries and a rectangular sign.  
With an expression that betrayed how shocked John felt, he picked up the sign and read outloud. "Congratulations on your permanent work..? Wow, Sherlock… This is, uh…"  
Sherlock's small smile faltered and his hands lowered, his brows furrowed. "Oh, is it not good?"  
John glanced up, meeting Sherlock's eyes, and immediately straightened. "Oh no, it's brilliant, I'm just… surprised, is all. This is very nice of you, Sherlock."   
He smiled, one of those genuine smiles Sherlock had never seen outside of Baker Street.   
"You didn't do anything to this cake, did you? This isn't some sort of experiment, is it?"  
The question took Sherlock by surprise and he shook his head. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind.   
John seemed to believe him as he leaned back down towards the cake. He picked up a cherry and ate it, playing with the stem between his fingers.   
"How did you know?"  
"Well, you were talking about work yesterday and you mentioned you'd accepted a permanent position and I know you were trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal b--"  
"About the cake. I meant about the cake. How did you know black forest is my favourite? I've never told anyone."  
"Oh, that"  
Sherlock's cheeks flushed a light pink and he looked down, moving his weight from the heel of his feet to his toes.   
"I may have been subtly observing what you eat and questioning your tastes and offering you different foods in an attempt to figure it out…"  
There was a moment of silence, followed by John's soft, warm laugh.  
"Is that why there was actual food in the flat this last week?"   
Sherlock nodded and John's laughter doubled, eventually pulling Sherlock with him, who got a bright smile, unable to resist John's charming enthusiasm.   
"If only I'd known sooner that's what you needed as a motivation to tolerate the fridge being used for its actual purpose…"

They moved around the kitchen in harmony, like a practiced choreography as John got plates and cutlery and Sherlock grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle of red. They sat facing each other and John served them each a piece.   
"You know we haven't even thought about dinner yet, and now we're eating cake."  
"Yes, well, I hadn't exactly thought about timing."


End file.
